Dear Vic
by RissaCat0798
Summary: Long and Sad. Please read. Kellic one shot.


Dear Vic,

I don't know why I have to write these stupid letters. I wouldn't if I had a choice, but my therapist requires me to do so. She says it will help me vent, because I'm sure as hell not telling her about my life. And yeah, I have to see a therapist now, because of you I might add. Before you came into my life everything was...manageable. Anyways, back to why I'm writing this. She told me to write down anything I've wanted to say to you in the past and anything I feel you should know now. Also, if something happens and I think I should tell someone I'm supposed to write it to you. But she said to make sure I absolutely do not send it to you. As if I needed her to tell me that.

I don't know what to say, writing letters is so stupid, especially if you know you're not going to send it.

Also, I have nothing to say to you. We're done, over. Isn't that what you said to me all those nights ago? You left me and I'm fine, really. Except for the whole therapy part.

Whatever,

Kellin Quinn

Dear Vic,

My therapist read over the last letter and said it wasn't good enough. She said I actually needed to "let my feelings loose". I think it's a bunch of bull. Anyways she said to start with the end of our relationship and how I feel about you now.

In all honesty I want to say that I'm fine. That if I saw you on the street I would be able to smile and have a small conversation with you. I want to be able to say that I'm over you and I'm over us. But I can't. You know why? Because I fucking hate you.

Weren't expecting that were you? I bet you thought that I would be pining after you, claiming that I still love you and asking to have you back. I don't want you back. I hate everything about you. I mean what kind of asshole looks for the kid that is socially awkward, dates them, makes them feel important, claims to love them and then dumps them without even giving them an explanation? How many years were we together Vic? Nine? Nine fucking years and you left me without a second thought. But I can get over that you know?

What really sickens me is that you're still out there, probably playing some unsuspecting victim, just like you played me. You're a real good person Vic, just wonderful. How can you live with yourself? How do you sleep at night?

Kellin Quinn.

Dear Vic,

Even though my therapist said the last letter was good, I still have to continue writing them.

You know what the shittiest part about these letters is? It's that I can't get a reply. I want to know what you have to say to me. And I really want to see the look on your face when you realize that I don't miss you. Not even slightly.

Anyways, I think I should change the subject now before this turn into an I-Hate-Vic fest. We're supposed to be talking about things that will actually benefit me.

I guess I should tell you about my parents. I still haven't talked to them, not since you got me out of there. I don't miss them though. They were never really my parents. More like they were just some shitty people that just had to make sure I didn't die in the first fifteen years of my life. You know who I miss? Your parents. They took me in when I was sixteen, upon your request, and raised me as their own. They're the only real parents I've ever known. But you took them too, didn't you? You let me keep them for a while before snatching them away. I miss Mike too. Even though he was your brother, not mine, I always thought of him as my own. But now he's gone. You took everything I had. Everyone that meant something to me. Tell me, Vic, do they miss me? I hope they do. I hope that one day I'll get to talk to them again. Do you miss me? I hope you do. I hope you realized you made a terrible mistake. I hope you think about me all the time. And I hope you know that you will never get me back.

Even if I were to forgive you, how could I ever trust you again? How could I get over the fear that you'd take them all away again? Your parents. Your brother. You.

Kellin Quinn

Dear Vic,

Fine. I said it. Maybe I do miss you a little. But how can I not? You saved my life. You took me out of the hell hole I was living in. I would've died there, whether it'd been my parents that killed me or myself. You made me feel important. You made me feel at home. And unlike you, I was actually in love. I wasn't pretending. How could you sit there and lie to me for nine years? How could you trick me like that?

Can I tell you something I've never told anyone? I was going to propose to you. I'd already bought the ring and everything. I still have it. Pathetic, right? I mean I should have destroyed it, or thrown it or something. Maybe that would help me release the anger I have towards you. But for some reason I can't let go. I keep thinking that maybe if I keep the ring for long enough, if I in some small form hold onto us then you'll come back to me. You won't just walk up and say you're sorry and everything will somehow be better. But the last year and half will have never happened. Maybe if I keep your ring, the one that I spent months looking for to make sure I got the one that best fit you, then this will all turn into one big nightmare. I'll wake up and you'll be there next me. All I'll have to do is wake you up and tell you all about it. You'll just laugh and hold me close, while whispering something about how you could never do that to me. You'll be wearing the ring and we'll be happy. We'll be in love for real.

I'm not crazy though, I know this will never happen. But there's still a small part of me that hopes.

I hate you for making me do this. I hate you for making me miss you. I hate you for taking my family. Your family. I hate you for leaving. I hate you for socially crippling me. I hate you for giving me trust issues. I hate you for making me bitter. I hate you for making me fall in love with you in the first place.

But most of all I hate myself for still loving you.

Kellin Quinn

Dear Vic,

I am now supposed to tell you about "current events." Which is basically my therapist's nice way of saying I need to tell you about my latest fuck ups.

Hmmm...where to begin? Well since you left I've started cutting again. Not a lot, but when I just can't take it anymore. I don't do it nearly as much as I did in high school. In some ways I think I'm doing it to get back at you. I remember it took you years to finally get me to stop completely, with absolutely no relapses. You were always so supportive about it, it was like you really understood what I was going through.

We were sixteen when you found me in a bleeding, crying mess in my bathroom. You cleaned me up, something no one had ever done before. The whole time you were helping though, I was scared out of my mind. I thought for sure that once you knew I was fine you would leave, disgusted with me. But you weren't disgusted, or even mad. You just looked hurt. At first I didn't understand the look. Who would care if I was hurting myself? You went on to explain that it hurt knowing I didn't trust you enough to tell you about what I was doing. I remembering frowning, that was so untrue. I did trust you, really, but I loved you far too much. Any chance of losing you wasn't worth it. We were quiet for a moment, and still I was scared you would leave me. But all of the sudden you seemed to shrink into yourself, becoming an insecure little boy I'd never known you to be. It broke my heart seeing you like that, and I hated myself a little more for making you feel that way. You stared at me for a moment before whispering, "Do I not make you happy?" and I laughed. The thought of you being unable to make me happy was so preposterous I had to. I explained to you that there was never a time when I cut if I'd seen you that day. Because even when I got home and things were bad the memory of your smile from the day was enough to cradle me to sleep, keeping me sane for one more night. You then asked me if it wasn't you, then who was hurting me? I told you about what my parents did. What my father did. I saw a flash of anger in your eyes, so powerful that I was slightly afraid. But then you looked at me and smiled, "Just stay on the bed and relax, okay?"

I had no idea what you meant. Where else would I go? And then I thought you were leaving me, and asking me to not follow you. Two years ago I would have said that those fears from the beginning of our relationship were irrational, but now I see just how right I really was. You got up from the bed and put on your iPod, blasting my favorite song. I didn't understand what you were doing. Were you planning on comforting me for a while before going? You then started to pack all of my belongings and bringing them downstairs. I didn't stop you though, I trusted you. I didn't get off the bed either, following your orders to a tee. When everything you thought I needed was packed and put safely in the backseat of your car you came back for me. With a warm smile you said, "Well, are you coming?" I didn't need to be asked twice. I leaped up from the bed and followed you to your car. You sang to me the whole ride to your house, you knew how much I loved your voice. When we got to your house you whispered something to your mom and she just nodded, a solemn look on her face. You told me to go to your room while you brought all of the stuff inside, and I did. I never wanted to refuse you. When everything was out of you car and in your room you looked at me and said, "Welp, this is where you're living from now on." I swear my heart was pounding so hard I thought you could hear it. I leaped at you, attacking your face with kisses. You smiled and told me we should get ready for bed. And that night was the first time we slept together, in the most innocent of ways. Cuddling into you I felt safe for the first time.

Had I told anyone else about my home situation they would have said they were sorry, offered me pity and maybe try to contact the police for me. But you, you were different. There was no pity or questions. You didn't half ass an attempt to help. You made sure I got out of there and into a home where I would always be safe. It was remarkable how nice you were and just plain old good. That's just who you were though, always putting others before yourself. Doing everything you could to make sure everyone was happy.

So why, Vic, why did you leave me like that?

Kellin Quinn

Dear Vic,

I think I'm starting to get better at writing these letters, don't you? Or maybe I'm just getting crazier, because this is basically like talking to someone that is not there.

I'm in a good mood today, so I thought maybe I should talk about one of our good memories. My therapists says not to spend these letters reminiscing over our past experiences. She says that doing this may cause me to "relapse and conjure up emotions for you that I'd long ago put away. Thus my progress would be put to a halt." Basically she thinks that if I think about happy times with you I'll fall in love with you again. I guess the jokes on her though. I never stopped loving you.

Whatever, it doesn't matter to me what she thinks, or what anyone thinks. I want to tell you my perspective of the day we met. The day that changed everything.

I had just turned fifteen when I started my sophomore year at a new high school. I was nervous. What if I didn't make any friends? Or what if I got bullied? By the time I actually got to school my thoughts had erupted into chaos. I was practically shaking when I walked into the main office to get my schedule. As I walking in a boy was walking out. He was tan, had shoulder length brown hair that was straight. I didn't see his face though, I was looking at my feet afraid to make eye contact with anyone new. But as we bumped shoulders and I watched this boy walk away, I found myself regretting not looking up. I went to the front desk and the woman was very nice, smiling with kind eyes as she gave me what I needed. When I walked out I heard commotion. I don't know what compelled me to see what was happening, as most of the time I avoided conflict at all cost even when it wasn't mine. But still, I walked to where the loud noises were coming from. That's when I found the same brown haired boy from the office standing over someone that looked as if they were hurt. Little did I know that boy was you, and how important you would eventually become to me. I was afraid of you. What if you wanted to hurt me? But when you turned around and your eyes landed on mine you smiled. Not a fake smile, or an evil grin, but a genuine smile. You walked over to me and put your hand out for me to shake. I took it hesitantly.

"Hi, I'm Vic Fuentes. What's your name?" you asked. "K-Kellin Quinn." I stuttered out, silently cursing myself. I think thats when you noticed I was shaking. Your eyes turned sad, almost like you knew I was afraid of you and didn't like it. "You don't have to be scared of me, Kells" you reassured, I think adding a nickname for emphasis. Like you wanted to make it seem like we were already friends. "How do I know that? You just beat someone up for no apparent reason." I stated, the unsuspecting burst of confidence coming from nowhere, surprising even myself. "Oh I had a reason alright." you said. I stared at you for a minute, waiting for you to tell me. But when you made no move to speak again I prompted, "Which was?" You locked your jaw, looking torn. Like you were arguing with yourself. Then you sighed and looked at me.

"That kid was a bully. He saw you walking in and was talking about you. Saying you were a faggot and he'd like to make you his bitch." I shivered at the thought, suddenly thankful that you were standing with me, as we were still in the view of this horrible child. "So I told him to shut up, because he didn't even know you. He then asked if I was your gay boyfriend and told me to make him shut up. So I did." I smiled at you. You were like my savior before you even knew I existed. "Well...thanks I guess" I said, like my usual awkward self. You just laughed though. "Here, let me see your schedule." You then took the paper from my hand and your smile grew even wider. "We have all the same classes. C'mon, I'll walk you to first period."

After that moment we were basically joined at the hip. We hung out as late as possible, only parting to sleep in our separate homes, just to wake up early for school so we could be reunited that much sooner. I think that day you scared the bully away, because when we finally did come out as a couple he didn't give us any shit. And any that did you would take care of. I remember telling you that you didn't have to, I could deal with the bullying. You just looked at me with serious eyes and said it was your job to protect me. After that I think I became too dependent on you. The thought never occurred to me that I needed to learn to protect myself. I should have though. I shouldn't have relied on your strength.

Because who was there to protect me when you, my savior, were the one hurting me?

Kellin Quinn

Dear Vic,

There are a lot of things I regret. I regret not learning to be strong. If I'd been strong then I could have protected myself when you left. Or maybe I could've fought for you. I regret being naive. Maybe if I had realized you thought there was a problem in our relationship sooner, I could've worked to fix it. I regret letting you walk away. The thing I regretted most about us in our teen years though, was our first fight.

Towards the end of our sophomore year we had already been dating for five months. That's when a new boy moved to our school. His name was Mark and he was obviously gay. Because of this he took refuge in us. I thought that we had all become fast friends, I didn't realize how much you hated him. Mark was very...touchy feely. He was all over me, with hugs, and kisses on the cheek and cheesy pickup lines. I thought it was all joke, I mean Mark knew we were in a committed relationship. He wouldn't actually be trying to flirt with me while you were there, right? That's why when you came to me to talk about it I thought you were being ridiculous.

"He's totally hitting on you all the time, and you do nothing to stop it! In fact you go along with it, it's like you like all of his attention!" you yelled. I couldn't understand why you were getting so worked up about it.

"Vic what are you talking about? We're friends. We're nice to each other, because that's what friends do!" I yelled, you just looked at me in disbelief.

"You really think that's what friends do? Then why don't Jaime and Tony and Mike act like that around us? Why is it that the only one of your friends that feels the need to kiss you in front of your boyfriend is Mark?" And looking back now I realize that you had a valid a point. I should've only allowed you to touch me like that. Only allowed you to flirt with me. But at the time I thought it was harmless.

"Yeah? Well when I got said boyfriend I didn't know he was going to act like this!" I yelled back. I regretted the words as soon as they came out, hated the sour taste they left in my mouth, but they were already out there. I couldn't take them back.

"What are you trying to say, Kellin?" you whispered calmly. I flinched at the sound of my full name, you never called me Kellin. Not once. It was either Kells, or just Kel, or sometimes Kelly.

"That you're being stupid, Victor!" instead of just saying sorry and forgetting the argument I retaliated by using your full name.

"I'm not being stupid, you're being oblivious!" you yelled back, desperately trying to make me understand.

"Jealousy is an ugly color on you, Victor." I hated the way I spat the words at you. I hated the hurt look in your eyes. But I didn't say sorry. I turned around and began walking away. And as you tried to grab my hand and pull me back, I yanked it free without bothering to turn around. So I walked out to the front of the school where I found Mark sitting by himself. I sat next to him and told him about the argument. I should've walked away from him. Our argument never should have happened. I should've accepted that Mark made you uncomfortable and asked him to stop. I should've been fine with you wanting Mark to know that I was yours and you were mine.

"Can you believe him?" I said to Mark, exasperated from mine and yours' fight.

"Yeah." Mark said quietly. It took me a moment to register what he said. Was he actually agreeing with you?

"What?" I asked, dumbly.

"If I were your boyfriend I would feel uncomfortable too." he said, as if it were obvious.

"I don't, I don't understand." I said, acting as if what Mark was telling me was a complicated math problem that I was unable to solve.

"I like you Kellin." before I had a chance to respond to what he said, he leaned over and forced his lips on mine. I roughly pushed away immediately, standing up.

"Mark, what the hell?!" I yelled.

"But you and Vic were...and I thought...you guys were fighting!" he yelled back, looking horribly confused.

"Yeah, Mark, we were fighting. Fighting. We did not break up! And even if we had I still love Vic more than anything!" with that I turned around and saw you, standing there, watching us. Your face was blank and, for a second, I feared I wasn't going to be forgiven. I walked over to you though, stopping about a foot away. "Vic...you were right. I'm so sorry."

I expected you to be mad or to say 'I told you so'. But you didn't. Instead, you smiled and said, "Kells, baby, are you seriously going to make me walk all the way over to you or are you going to come to me?" With that you opened your arms and I gladly ran into them, kissing you and telling you I loved you.

Now, I regret having that fight. I should have cherished every moment I had with you. But at the same time, I wish that that fight had been the worst of our problems. I wish that nothing could have torn us apart. But something did. Something took you away from me, Vic. And a year and a half later, I still don't know what it is.

Will you ever tell me why you left?

Kellin Quinn

Dear Vic,

I think these letters had me believing that you had come back to me; that I was actually talking to you. I woke up this morning happy, a smile gracing my face as my heart beat erratically. A happiness that was bursting, loud and joyful. Something I haven't felt in a long time. Until I reached over to the other side of the bed, looking to share this with my supposed other half. I wanted to share it with you. But as my hand moved up and down grazing over the bed, all I felt was cold sheets. I was alone. I'm still alone. I'm still not used to it, sleeping alone. My bed, our bed, just seems too large and too cold. I miss the nights we would lay together wrapped in each others warmth. Why did you leave like that? Didn't you think about how I would feel?

Let me tell you just how bleak and cruel that day was for me.

That night you came home, slamming the door on your way inside, and went straight to our bedroom. You didn't bother saying hello, or explaining where you were as you had been an hour late, again. I was little hurt that you weren't sharing with me what was wrong, that you thought I couldn't help you. But I figured you just needed some space, that you were fine, that we were fine. You were in our room for a long time, silently stowing away. I don't know what you were doing or what you were thinking. But I waited for you, waited until you were ready to talk. So, when you finally did call me, I was happy that you were ready to talk to me. There are so many things I should've noticed that day, things I would've noticed earlier on in our relationship. But what changed then? Was I so confident in you, in us, that I was able to ignore the signs?

I should've noticed that you called me Kellin. I should've noticed the blank stare on your face. I should've noticed that way you sat as far from me as our bed would allow. Or the way you shook and your voice cracked. But I didn't. I convinced myself that everything was normal.

"Kellin, we need to talk." And even this, this horribly cliche breakup phrase, didn't alert me to what you were planning.

"About what, babe?" I'd hoped the pet name would help you calm down. Now I realize how it must have sounded desperate to you, pathetic even.

"I can't do this anymore!" You yelled, jumping up from the bed. That's when I felt it, felt what you were trying to say. But I wouldn't accept it, couldn't, not until I heard it directly from you.

"Can't do what, Vic?" I asked cautiously.

"Us, Kellin! I can't do us! We're over, done. Okay? I just, I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry. Don't call me Kellin, don't look for me, don't try to contact me. I'm sorry." And with that you got up and left, I never saw you again. I didn't know what to do, how to respond. So I just laid there and cried. I cried for myself, for everything that I wanted and for everything I had just lost. I cried for you, that you thought you couldn't tell me what was wrong, that you didn't want to. I cried because the pain in my chest wouldn't stop, it never relented. It still hasn't. And for the next week I laid in our bed and cried.

How could you do that to me, Vic? How could you just leave? Why didn't you at least grant me with a small explanation? Didn't you realize that not knowing would eat away at me, everyday, until I was nothing? Did I mean that little to you?

Vic, please, just tell me why.

Kellin Quinn

Dear Vic,

Today I went to the mall, making sure to stop at one of your favorite stores. I know that it's ridiculous and I know I should stop doing it. But apart of me hopes that you'll be there. You'll explain everything and we'll be happy together. But you weren't. You're never there. You somehow always manage to evade my ever searching self.

Even though what I was looking for(you) wasn't there, I still found someone from our past. And of all the times I imagined running into him, how joyous our reunion would be, I never once thought it would hurt as much as it did. So as I glanced at some shirts I knew for certain I wasn't going to buy, a tall man with tattoos bumped past me. I payed no attention to him though, it's not like it's the first time someone's done that. At least I didn't notice him, not until he started to speak to me.

"Oh sorr- Oh my God, Kellin?" The familiarity if the voice mixed with the fact that he knew my name shocked me. Surely if one of my friends, our friends, were there I would've noticed them sooner, right? Obviously not though, because as I looked up I saw, standing in all his glory, Michael Fuentes.

"M-Mike? What are you doing here?" I stuttered out, just like I would have in high school during my highly insecure phase. Although, come to think of it I only got confidence because of you. It only makes sense that you took that with you when you left, as well.

"Shit, Kellin, I thought I'd never see you again." He whispered, still in shock. He leaned down and hugged me. To anyone else it would have been a nice, friendly hug. But as he did so all could think about was how your arms felt around me, warm and strong. And I remembered that you would never hug me again, never hold me again. That you would never want me again. I felt like my heart was being ripped to shreds right in front of me and all I could do was sit and watch as it happened. I nearly broke down there, in the middle of the store. And then when Mike pulled back I was again reminded of how alone I was.

"Hey, Kellin, listen I know we haven't spoken in a long time and I'm sorry. Vic asked me not to... But I need you to follow me to my car. I have something Vic wanted me to give you if I ever were to run into you. As he said this a million questions ran through my head. What could it possibly be that you couldn't give me yourself? Did something happen to you? Were you okay? Will I finally get to be in on the secret of why you left me? Instead of bothering Mike with these questions though, I simply nodded my head, agreeing to follow you.

And I walked with your brother to the mall, missing when we used to. When we were happy. As we finally approached his car he unlocked the door and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to me. On the front there were six simple letters, clearly stating that this letter was for me and only me. I must have looked extremely confused because Mike touched my arm and advised me not to open it until I got home. I nodded and began to walk away, but was stopped when he called out to me.

"Kellin, please come by and visit us. You don't know how much Mama misses you. How much I miss you." he looked down and I could've sworn I heard him mumble something along the lines of, "I can't lose both my brothers."

I didn't understand. He can't of missed me that much because it's not like he didn't have any time to come see me. It's not like he didn't know where I lived, where you used to live. And how can I come visit them? You're going to be there, and you told me specifically not to try and find you? But does it really matter now if I disobey your wishes? You hurt me, should I still be acting this loyal? So I just nodded my head, got in my car and left.

Now I am at home and I'm scared. I'm scared of what your letter says. Scared of what news it will bring me. Afraid of how much reading this will hurt. Oh how I want to just talk to you and ask you if everything will be okay. But I can't. I'm on my own now, and I have to remember that.

Well I guess I should start reading now...

Kellin Quinn

Dear Kel,

I honestly hope you never have to read this. I hope that there is never a time when Mike feels like he needs to give this to you. I made him promise that if he saw you after a year, and you still looked like you were going through hard times that he had to give this to you. But I want you to get over me, I want you to be happy.

So I guess I should explain now. You know when I went to the doctor's? I only went for a check up, but upon going the doctor noticed something strange. Numerous tests later I was diagnosed with stage four Osteosarcoma. I still had tests to take that week, and that's why I had been late every night. But that night, that horrible night, was the end. The doctor told me that I had about a month to live; there was nothing they could do. As I sat there in that cold office all I could think about was you. How on earth was I ever going to be able to tell you this? By the time I got to the apartment I was resigned to it; I knew I would have to tell you sometime. I should have just sat down and told you as soon as I got home. But I couldn't stand to think about the look in your eyes as you realized what I was trying to tell you. So, I chickened out and went to take a shower to clear my mind. I didn't acknowledge you, I couldn't. If I'd stopped to say hello, or professed my undying love for you, I would have broken down. How could I leave you like that? And then once I was out of the shower, I decided to go through our stuff. I told myself it was just so I could remember where everything was in my last month, but really I was just stalling. That's when I found it. Underneath all of your sweatpants(that you love to wear whenever possible) was a soft velvet box. My hands were shaking as I picked it up, I knew I shouldn't have been doing that. I should've put it back, it wasn't mine to mess with. But I had to know, I had to know if it was what I thought it was. So, slowly I opened it, and, just like I figured, inside was the most beautiful wedding ring I have ever seen. I wanted to smile, to be happy. Anyone else would, right? Instead, I sank to the floor, clutching the ring to my chest. That was when I broke down, when I finally cried out everything I had in me. I am so thankful you didn't come to check on me at that time, it would have been horrible explaining that to you. But as the last of my tears dried in streaks down my face, something changed inside me. I grew colder and I could feel my heart grow harder. In that moment I decided what to do next. I couldn't let you sit there, thinking that we would be together. I couldn't promise you forever, not when I was most certainly leaving you in such a short amount of time. So, on the floor clutching a ring I wasn't supposed to know about was when I decided it. I would break up with you now, it would be easier for you. People get over breakups all the time, I wouldn't need to worry about you. You would get over me, find someone new, and I would just be remembered as your first boyfriend. But death, death makes things so much harder. You would hold on to our love for too long. You wouldn't be happy. That's not what I want for you.

Breaking up with you is the hardest thing I have done in my entire life, Kells. I want you to know that. It wasn't easy leaving you like that, but I didn't have any other choice. I put the ring away and sat on the bed. I called out to you, not using a nickname. I hated the way it tasted in my mouth. I felt sick. No, I couldn't do it. I couldn't break your heart. But then I reminded myself that I was inevitably going to break your heart.

"Kellin, we need to talk." I started, as I tried my hardest to keep my face void of any emotion. You sat down on the bed and I could tell you were confused. I willed myself not to cry.

"About what, babe?" I internally flinched. I can't do this, I can't do this. No, there's no turning back now, you have to.

"I can't do this anymore!" I didn't mean to yell, and I'm so sorry if that made it harder for you. I jumped up from the bed. I couldn't stand to sit next to you, not when you were about to break. I just wanted to hug you.

"Can't do what, Vic?"

"Us, Kellin! I can't do us! We're over, done. Okay? I just, I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry. Don't call me Kellin, don't look for me, don't try to contact me. I'm sorry." And I left. I left you there to deal with everything by yourself. I couldn't let you in though, and I'm sorry. I ran from the apartment, chased away by the utter look of pain in your eyes. I ran to Mike's house, that's where I would stay until I died. At the time I thought that everything I'd just done, everything I'd just said was for the best. I couldn't let you watch me die. And I couldn't watch a part of you die every time my health took a turn for the worst. So I went to Mike, and he held me as I cried, telling him everything.

So that is why I left you. Our was swift; a clean break. But death is long and painful. It's a pain that cuts deepest for those around.

This last month has been so hard without you Kel. I can't stand waking up to an empty bed. I miss you, I miss you so much it hurts. Every night I have dreams of what our life could have been like, only to wake up to my own personal hell. I can't stand it anymore. But I'll be okay. It's only a few days now, I can feel it. Kells, I love you. I love you so much it feels like I can't breath when you're not around. For the last month I have been drowning. But please, please, get over me.

I don't want my memory to haunt you.

I'll love you forever,

Vic Fuentes

Dear Vic,

Why, Vic? Why would you do that? I could have helped you, I could've been there for you. You didn't have to be alone. No one deserves to be alone in their last bit of time.

You say you did it because you didn't want to hurt me, well look how that turned out! It's been so long Vic, and I'm still not over you. Me knowing the truth from the very beginning wouldn't have changed that. Our break up wasn't just something I could recover from; you should know that by now.

Don't you see what you've taken away from me? We could have had one last month together. I could have seen you smile for another month. We could've laughed, and cried, and been together. I could've been there for your last breath. I could've been there for your funeral. I could've been the last one to tell you they loved you. I could've healed with your family. Our family. We still could've been married, for the short time you had left. Because even when you were on the brink of death you still would have been beautiful to me, and I still would've wanted the world to know you were mine. How could you take those things from me Vic? Maybe I could've gotten some form of closure.

Maybe if I'd of known then I could have put things to peace. Maybe I wouldn't have hated myself this last year in a half. I hated myself for not being able to keep you. I hated myself for not fighting for you. I hated myself for letting month after month go by and not even trying once to contact you. I hated myself for loving you. I hated myself for needing you. I hated myself for letting myself I hated you. I hated you for doing that to me. But now I know. I don't have to hate myself anymore. I don't have to hate you anymore. I have to let go. But how can I? You're my soul mate. Love doesn't just disappear with death. It stays as a brutal reminder of what you lost. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. The hurt that the love brings is also a reminder of how real you were, we were, something I'd tried to deny for quite some time now.

Remember when I said I wished I was strong? I still do. I'm not strong enough to do this on my own. I'm not strong enough to wake up everyday without you, knowing that I'll never wake up next to you again. What is the point of living if you know there will never be any love in your life? Miserable, that's how I'd be. That's why it's so hard to let go. I can't forget my one true love. No one will ever compare to you.

So this is the last letter I will write; to you, or to anyone. I'll tape this to your grave(the place where they'll find me), because I think it's better than any suicide note I could've written. And then, we'll lay together forever.

I won't let your memory haunt me forever.

Forever I'll love you,

Kellin Quinn


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